How big data could help London beat over-tourism

Tourists enjoying Buckingham Palace. Image: Getty.

London has always been vying for the top spot of the global tourism charts. In 2016, the city’s visitor numbers first hit record levels, at 19.1 million overseas arrivals, and projections suggest that number will have increased by 30 per cent by 2025.

The benefits to the city of this booming tourism market are clear: as well as strengthening the capital’s global reputation as open and welcoming, international tourism contributes £13bn annually to the economy and supports 309,000 full-time equivalent jobs.

As tourists continue to arrive in droves, however, the question of how to sustainably manage the influx – and make sure that the city continues to reap the rewards of its global popularity – will become more pressing.

London isn’t quite on a par yet with the Netherlands, where the country’s tourist board recently announced that it would effectively stop promoting Amsterdam as a destination for international travellers in order to ward off the ill-effects of over-tourism in the city. But, looking at that 30 per cent projected increase to the UK, there may be a need to begin future proofing against the same problem.

What if, rather than redirecting tourists away from the city centre when they arrive, authorities employed methods in advance: making tourists aware of the diverse neighbourhoods to explore and cultural experiences to seek out, right across London, which would influence their decisions on where to stay and visit before they even get here?

London First has just published the first ever borough-by-borough analysis of the impact of international visitor spending and accommodation in London. Anonymised and aggregated data provided by Airbnb and Mastercard has allowed us to see clearly who is visiting: where they’re staying, shopping, eating, drinking; when they’re doing it, and why. We can see trends in the behaviours of different nationalities – tourists from China, for example, like to stick in the West End, while German and Italian visitors are keener to explore markets and restaurants outside the centre.


Speaking of the West End, a huge amount of spending (unsurprisingly) goes on in London’s tourism core. But there’s also a substantial amount being spent by tourists across the rest of the city: a ‘halo’ of 19 boroughs, roughly covering travel zones 2-3, accounts for £2.8bn of spending, supporting more than 60,000  jobs. The data showed that growing tourism by just 10 per cent annually in this area would add £250m pounds to the economy and over six thousand jobs.

The economic benefits of encouraging more visitor spending in outer city neighbourhoods and far-flung districts is clear. But what’s also made obvious by the report is the potential for authorities to leverage this sort of data to sustainably grow tourism while safeguarding their cities against its negative effects, now and in the future. With a clearer picture of where, why and when international tourists are visiting, authorities can adapt their promotion, investment and national tourism policy levers, marketing individual areas to international visitors potentially before they even arrive.

Our research, while only a first step, shows that innovative data partnerships of the kind that produced these results are worth doing – and have potential to be adopted not just at a national level in the UK but by cities globally. Facilitating data exchange between public and private partners is not always easy but could be a critical tool for London, and any other tourist destinations looking to avoid inclusion on the growing list of European cities who are scrambling too late to protect their city centres, residents and small business owners against the double-edged sword of “too much tourism”. A three-pronged approach of data exchange, innovative analytics and digital transformation must be leveraged, to help cities better manage their growth challenges, improve efficiency and support economic development.

Matt Hill is programme director at London First. 

 
 
 
 

Leeds is still haunted by its pledge to be the “Motorway City of the Seventies”

Oh, Leeds. Image: mtaylor848/Wikimedia Commons.

As the local tourist board will no doubt tell you, Leeds has much to be proud of: grandiose industrial architecture in the form of faux-Egyptian temples and Italian bell-towers; an enduring cultural legacy as the birthplace of Goth, and… motorways. But stand above the A58(M) – the first “urban motorway”  in the country – and you might struggle to pinpoint its tourist appeal.

Back in the 1970s, though, the city council was sufficiently gripped by the majesty of the motorways to make them a part of its branding. Letters sent from Leeds were stamped with a postmark proudly proclaiming the city's modernity: “Leeds, Motorway City of the Seventies”.

Image: public domain.

During the 1960s, post-war optimism and an appetite for grand civic projects saw the rapid construction of motorways across England. The construction of the M1 began in 1959; it reached Leeds, its final destination, in 1968. By the early 1970s the M62 was sweeping across Pennines, and the M621 loop was constructed to link it to Leeds city centre.

Not content with being the meeting point of two major motorways, Leeds was also the first UK city to construct a motorway through the city centre: the inner ring road, which incorporates the short motorway stretches of the A58(M) and the A64(M). As the council put it in 1971, “Leeds is surging forward into the Seventies”.

The driving force behind Leeds' love of motorways was a mix of civic pride and utopian city planning. Like many industrial cities in the North and Midlands, Leeds experienced a decline in traditional manufacturing during the 1960s. Its position at the centre of two major motorways seemed to offer a brighter future as a dynamic city open for trade, with the infrastructure to match. In response to the expansion of the roads, 1970s council planners also constructed an elevated pedestrian “skywalk” in an attempt to free up space for cars at ground level. Photos of Leeds from that time show a thin, white walkway running through blocky office buildings – perhaps not quite as extensive as the futuristic urban landscape originally envisaged by planners, but certainly a visual break with the past.

Fast forward to 2019 and Leeds’ efforts to become a “Motorway City” seems like a kitsch curiosity from a decade that was not always known for sustainable planning decisions. Leeds’s historic deference to the car has serious consequences in the present: in February 2019, Neville Street – a busy tunnel that cuts under Leeds station – was found to contain the highest levels of NO2 outside London.

City centre planners did at least have the foresight to sink stretches of the inner motorways below street level, leaving pedestrian routes largely undisturbed. Just outside the centre, though, the roads can be more disruptive. Sheepscar Interchange is a bewildering tangle of arterial roads, Armley Gyratory strikes fear into the hearts of learner drivers, and the M621 carves unsympathetically through inner-city areas of South Leeds with pedestrian access restricted to narrow bridges that heighten the sense of a fragmented landscape.

 

Leeds inner ring road in its cutting. Image: author provided.

 

The greatest problem for Yorkshire's “Motorway City” in 2019, however, is not the occasional intimidating junction, but the complete lack of an alternative to car travel. The dire state of public transport in Leeds has already been raised on these pages. In the early 20th century Leeds had one of the most extensive tram networks in the country. The last lines closed in 1959, the same year construction began on the A58m.


The short-sightedness of this decision was already recognised in the 1970s, as traffic began to build. Yet plans for a Leeds Supertram were rejected by successive Conservative and Labour governments unwilling to front the cost, even though smaller cities such as Newcastle and Sheffield were granted funding for light transport systems. Today, Leeds is the largest city in the EU without a mass transit system. As well as creating congestion, the lack of viable public transport options prevents connectivity: the city's bus network is reasonable, but weaker from East to West than North to South. As a non-driver, I've turned down jobs a short drive away that would be a logistical impossibility without a car.

Leeds' early enthusiasm for the motorway was perhaps premature, but there are things we can learn from the 1970s. Whatever else can be said about it, Leeds' city transport strategy was certainly bold – a quality in short supply today, after proposals for the supertram were watered down to a trolleybus system before being scrapped altogether in 2016. Leeds' rapid transformation in the 1960s and 70s, its grandiose visions of skywalks and dual carriageways, were driven by strong local political will. Today, the long-term transport strategy documents on Leeds City Council's website say more about HS2 than the need for a mass transit system within Leeds itself, and the council has been accused of giving up the fight for light rail and trams.

Whilst central government's refusal to grant funds is the greatest obstacle to Leeds' development, the local authority needs to be far more vocal in demanding the transport system the city deserves. Leeds' desire to be the Motorway City of the Seventies might look ludicrous today, but the political drive and utopian optimism that underpinned it does not.